


Paint My World

by invisible_slytherin



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Artist!Dream, Cinderella AU, Fluff, Happy Ending, M/M, Prince!George, Strangers to Lovers, modern time
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:28:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28159788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/invisible_slytherin/pseuds/invisible_slytherin
Summary: "I used to think you were insufferable."Or, the one where Prince George is supposed to bond with girls to find a suitable wife, but instead meets a mysterious artist who won't leave his head.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 44





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is my first dnf fanfic and I'm a little scared of posting it because of everything, but I really wanted to so here we are. The only thing I ask is for anyone who might read this story to be respectful of the creators and not shove anything down their throat. Let's all have fun while keeping basic human decency and respect. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy! :)

This wasn’t the first time that George had been in this exact same spot doing this exact thing. He was used to it by now. Used to seeing the ballroom full of people with their backs straight and glasses full of champagne talking to each other with fake smiles on their faces. He was used to the show that everyone put on, the show that everyone was part of. 

The royal family had organized the charity ball this month. For the people that appeared, it was more of an excuse to show off their wealth and to polish their image than to help out those in need. Still, even if it were for appearances, the people who were in need were, at least, still getting the money.

The ballroom was decorated in shades of white and gold with a few decorations his mother had said were purple in strategic places. The main, golden chandelier was high and bright in the middle of the room, other less impressive lights illuminating the rest of the place.

George smiled at the man in front of him, pretending to be listening attentively to what he was saying, something about his latest financial investment that George really didn’t care about. It was his job to be polite and stand there though, let the man talk and feel like he was important and like what he was saying was interesting. 

_ ‘Let them brag, let them tell you all about their lives. That will make them remember you and you want to be remembered’ _ , his mother used to say when he was a teenager sulking before every social event he had to attend. 

The man looked up and bowed when a firm hand squeezed George’s shoulder, nodding respectfully at his father as he settled next to them. 

“Your majesty, thank you for the invite. It is a pleasure to be welcomed here.”

George’s father nodded, his lips turning upward in a very small smile, back straight and an air of power around him. _ ‘Be polite, make people feel welcomed and important’  _ he always said.  _ ‘But never forget you are the most important one in the conversation’.  _

“Of course.” A polite nod of his head. “Do you mind if I take my son with me for a little?”

“Not at all,” the man answered with a tight-lipped smile. “It was an honour speaking to you, Prince George. Your majesty.” He bowed at the two of them and left.

“Have you spoken to Lady Adelaide yet?” His father’s eyes were staring straight forward, but his voice was hard and serious. 

Lady Adelaide was the daughter of one of his mother’s best friends. He knew that his mother and her friend had always loved the idea of having their kids marrying each other when they grew up. He wouldn’t even be surprised if they had a whole marriage planned out already. 

And George understood. He did. He knew that his mother wanted the best for him and that she thought that his best friend’s daughter would be a good match. However, understanding where she’s coming from doesn’t make him automatically like Adelaide in any way other than friendly. 

“Not yet,” he answered. 

“You should. Your mother is counting on you to do so.”

George knew she was. He had seen the way she had looked at him and had subtly gestured at Adelaide from the other side of the ballroom almost since the beginning of the event. 

“I know.” He nodded. “I’ll do it now.”

It wasn’t that he wanted to do it, but his father’s words and his mother’s stare weighed down on him and he didn’t have the heart to say no to either of them. He didn’t want to deal with the disappointment in their eyes when it was the end of the night and he hadn’t even attempted to talk to any of the girls who were there. He knew they wanted him to find a girl he liked and settle down with her, he was getting older and he was still single. His parents wanted his image to be as pristine and serious as possible and that image included being married. The ball was an opportunity to meet new people, it wasn’t surprising that they were pushing for him to talk to Adelaide.

His father nodded approvingly and clapped his shoulder, the simple gestures telling him more than words could. 

George straightened his back and walked confidently up to where Adelaide was speaking to two other girls. He would get nothing out of delaying this interaction any further. He knew his parents were watching, he knew that she was probably already waiting for the moment he approached her, knowing as well as he did about their mothers’ idealistic ideas.

‘ _ Being confident will help you get far. If you’re confident enough in yourself, people will also believe in you more easily.’  _ His mother’s words echoed through his head as he walked forward.

“Lady Adelaide,” he said when he was close enough for the girls to hear him. He extended his left hand, keeping his right one behind his back and smiled at her. “May I have this dance?”

The three girls turned to him and bowed in greeting, Adelaide one step closer than the other two. They all had smiles on their faces and George could see that, although they were trying to keep it contained and respectful, the two girls he didn’t know had a slight edge of teasing to their expression. 

“Of course,” Adelaide answered. 

She took his hand delicately and let him lead her to the middle of the ballroom where other people were already dancing with their partners. There, they turned to each other and got into the practised positions they had been in countless times after years of ballroom lessons and events. Adelaide put her left hand on George’s shoulder and took a small step forward as he put his right hand on her side while their other hands clasped together to the side.

George looked briefly over Adelaide’s shoulder to where their mothers were standing. They were looking at them, smiles on their faces as they watched them dance together. They were no doubt happy that their kids were finally making a move and potentially starting something between them. 

He looked at Adelaide, at her soft hair and eyes, at her thin lips and pale skin, and he couldn’t help but think that he really didn’t want to date her. She was beautiful and he knew that she was nice and kind. In theory, she was all he could wish for, maybe more, but still, she wasn’t someone he wanted to marry. Despite knowing each other for years, he had never felt any sort of deep connection with her, he didn’t think he ever would.

“You look lovely today,” he started, he was still going to be polite like he had been raised to be. His image was everything. 

She was wearing a long, blue gown, her shoulders showing and her hair was in an elegant updo.

“Thank you.” She smiled at him, her teeth were pearly white against her bright lips and her eyes were shining under the light of the chandelier. “You also look very handsome, Prince George.”

“How are you enjoying the night?” 

“It’s been lovely. Your family is always very welcoming.”

“I’m glad. We haven’t talked in a while.”

“That’s true. My mother has been encouraging me to speak to you for a while now.”

Her eyes were focused on his and her gaze was calculating as if waiting for a reaction from him. It looked like she knew more than she was letting on with all the formal words and wide smiles. George braced himself for the conversation and led her through the middle of the ballroom to the sound of the music.

“My mother has been doing the same. I reckon it was time I made it happen.”

Adelaide licked her lips slightly, her eyes still sharp and focused on him. Still waiting for something that he couldn’t understand. She didn’t seem to find anything though and they kept swaying to the beat of the song, neither knowing what to say to the other. 

There was a beat of silence, both of them searching for words and coming up empty-handed. George wanted to make an effort, for his parents’ sake if nothing else, but he couldn’t think of anything to say to her that would end the awkward silence and would keep the conversation going.

“Prince George,” she started. She was looking at him with the same calculating look again. “I know you’re only talking to me to appease our parents.”

He was startled, unsure if he had been that obvious that even Adelaide had noticed. He didn’t want to come off as rude and as someone who only talked to her for ulterior motives; even if, he reasoned, that was what he was doing. His mother’s stare was still burning into him and he didn’t know how to feel about Adelaide knowing. 

“We’ve been dancing for a while now and barely talked to each other. You have also been avoiding eye contact,” her eyes were glinting and her smile was more amused than he had expected considering the conversation. “ Don’t worry, Prince George, we are both doing the same thing.”

George blinked. He hadn’t expected that. It wasn’t that he thought she was into him, but he didn’t think she was going to be so truthful and bold about it and straight-up tell him that she was only talking to him for their parents. Maybe they did have more in common than he ever thought they did.

“I was not expecting this conversation,” he admitted and there really was no point in lying to her. “But you are right.”

“I understand where you’re coming from. My parents have many expectations for my life and for my image. I can’t imagine what yours must be like.”

“It is a lot of pressure. Thank you for understanding.”

The conversation was everything but usual and 

She laughed, soft and light. “There is no need to thank me. We are both on the same page here.”

“I only want my parents to be happy,” he admitted. “Even though it is… complicated, at times.”

Adelaide hummed in agreement and the silence that followed was much lighter than the one that had been over them before. The tension that had come from the expectations they had been concerned about had dissipated and had left only mutual understanding in its place.

The song came to an end and both of them took a step back, almost in sync. 

“It was good talking to you, Prince George,” Adelaide said. 

“It was very pleasant,” George smiled.

She bowed to him and smiled one last time before turning around and going back to her friends. George watched her go feeling nothing but relief that the conversation was over.

For a moment, he allowed himself to think what would happen if he liked her in the way his mother wanted him to. It would make things a lot easier for himself, his mother would be proud, he would marry her and they would live happily ever after in the castle. Almost a fairytale-like love story.

He sighed and looked at his parents to make sure they were both distracted before walking in the direction of the tall glass doors that opened to the terrace. He needed some fresh air and some time for himself after spending the whole night inside talking to people. 

There was almost no one outside. The winter air was more than enough incentive for people to stay inside in the heated ballroom. Still, the cold air felt good against George’s skin and the smell of the garden below was welcomed after spending the night breathing in a mixture of perfumes and colognes. 

The terrace was big enough that the people scattered around weren’t too close to each other. It was decorated with vases with different types of flowers, elegant benches and torches that gave off a soft light. At the back of the terrace, there were three tall trees that had been there since he was little. He still remembers sitting under their shade with his mother on warm summer days. From his place, he could just about see the pathway below that led to the outside of the castle, some cars already making their way out. It was getting late, the party wouldn’t last much longer. 

George rubbed his hands to keep them warm and leaned against the railing. Three men were standing on the other side of the terrace, smoking cigarettes and talking, he couldn’t hear what they were saying, but every once in a while one of them would laugh loud enough for the sound to travel there. Two women were standing just outside the glass door with champagne glasses in their hands.

He was glad that no one had followed him outside and that no one was approaching him to talk to him now. 

He could see four or five guards scattered around the terrace too, roaming the perimeter and keeping their eyes on the people that were out there. The guard that stood the closest to George bowed to him before continuing his round.

And if George hadn’t happened to look straight at the back of the terrace, at the tall trees, he wouldn’t have noticed the figure hiding among the shadows. It was hard to see, the tree branches and leaves covered the light of the moon and of the lanterns.

The figure was moving slowly, keeping to the dark patches and making sure they weren’t seen. George stared for a moment longer, wondering who they were and what they could possibly be doing that was making them move so furtively. 

He took one step forward, still far away, still trying to observe without being noticed. He didn’t know who the person was or if they were dangerous or not. He didn’t know if they had been invited or not. His guess was they hadn’t been. No invited guest would be moving around in the shadows like that.

And George was curious. Maybe it was because he had taken part in so many boring conversations during the night that a change was more than welcomed. Maybe it was the feeling of adrenaline that came with doing something unexpected and bold. But he wanted to approach the person, wanted to know who they were and what they were doing.

A part of him was a little fearful, though. He didn’t know the person’s intentions, but they couldn’t be that good if they had appeared without an invite and were hiding. Logically, he knew that he would most likely be fine, no one would try anything with guards keeping their eyes on everything, especially on the crown prince. Still, he might be gambling his life away with every step he took in the direction of the figure.

It was obvious when the person noticed that they had been discovered. Their movements stopped abruptly, their whole figure turning sharply in George’s direction and they both froze on their spots. George hadn’t thought this far ahead. He didn’t know what to do now that they were both aware of each other.

He waited with his breath held for the person to do something, anything, but nothing happened. 

In a daring move, George took one more step forward, the person in front of him staying exactly in the same spot. It was if they were both waiting to see who would make the next move, who would come closer first. Or maybe George was imagining it and the person was silently willing him to go away. 

With a deep breath, George took a few more steps forward. He had nothing to lose at this point, he tried to convince himself and dissolve the slight uneasiness that pricked his skin.

He didn’t even know why he was so curious, hiding away at any social events wasn’t that strange, he would do it all the time if he had the chance. Still, the mysterious air around the stranger made George infinitely curious to know who they were. It was almost as if an invisible thread was pulling him to that side of the terrace.

He was close enough now to see that it was a manly figure. A tall man with a black hoodie pulled up over his hair. George ran his eyes over his figure, stopping at the twitching left hand, at the notebook on his right one and at the attentive expression he could just barely make out.

It seemed as if the man was as hesitant as he was. 

George took one step closer, ready to approach him with some words maybe but, before he could, the man turned around and, in an act that made George almost choke on his breath, jumped over the railing and to the ground below the terrace.

George ran to the place where the man had been, quickly looking over the railing just in time to see a dark figure darting through the trees, stealthily avoiding people until he ran out of the castle grounds.

He shook his head in disbelief, the fact that someone had probably infiltrated the ball, jumped up and then down a terrace and left while only being seen by him was concerning. He wondered if he should tell his parents to strengthen the security around the castle. However, at the same time, it made George incredibly curious to know who the man was and what he had been doing. 

George turned back around, ready to go back to the ballroom and see the last guests out, there was nothing else to do outside and it was his obligation to be there. He took a step forward and stopped in his tracks, his foot stepping on something uneven on the ground.

He bent down to look at it and frowned when he saw a single pencil under his foot.


	2. Chapter 2

  
  


George looked up as a knock on the door sounded through his chambers. 

It was early in the morning, the sun hadn’t been up for long, and he was enjoying the peaceful atmosphere and the warmth that came from the embers at the bottom of the fireplace.

He liked to get up early, the castle was silent and no one attempted to come close to his chambers for at least a few hours.

Being the crown prince came with very little time to himself; there was always something to do, somewhere to be, someone to talk to. Any little moment he managed to steal for himself was welcomed and cherished.

"Yes?" He yelled so that the person outside would be able to hear him.

The door opened with a harsh push and a boy in a long blue cape with a sword strapped to his waist stood outside. He was grinning at George while casually leaning against the doorway, almost making it seem like he was part of the royalty instead of a knight.

"Good morning, Your Majesty," the knight said with a teasing smile.

"Good morning, Sapnap." George rolled his eyes.

Sapnap was the only person in the castle who dared to tease George. He was George's personal knight, the one who followed him whenever he went out and made sure that no one would hurt him in any way. They had known each other for so long that Sapnap knew for certain that he could get away with treating George without extreme formalities. He knew that George preferred it this way even.

And, although he was annoying sometimes, George wouldn't trade him for anything. Sapnap was the only person he could trust enough inside the castle to confidently call a friend.

"It's time to start the day, Georgie." Sapnap entered the room and closed the door behind him.

"What's on the schedule for today?" George got up from the setter where he had been sitting and stretched his arms above his head.

"Your mother wants to speak to you. First thing after breakfast." Sapnap walked up to George's desk and snatched one of the chocolates he had there.

"Do you know what she wants?" George slapped the back of his head lightly on his way to get dressed.

"No idea." He shrugged. "But something tells me it's connected to your suddenly empty schedule for the afternoon."

George stopped his movements as he was buttoning up his shirt.

"Empty? Didn't I have to accompany my father to his meeting with Lord Y?"

"At least until yesterday, yes. But now there's nothing scheduled."

"What could she possibly want that will take up the whole afternoon?" He grumbled to himself as he finished putting on his jacket.

"Can you turn to me?" Sapnap asked from behind him.

He reached out to fix George's collar and straighten his jacket and patted his cheek once he was satisfied with the result.

"What would you do without me, Prince George."

George shook his head and bent down to put on his boots.

"I would be a whole lot less annoyed."

"Nah, you'd just be a whole mess," Sapnap teased as the two of them walked out of the room.

***

"Mother," George greeted as he entered the greenhouse or she was taking care of some flowers with one of the gardeners.

"George, dear," she turned to him with a smile, taking off her gloves and setting her hands on his shoulders.

The Gardener bowed to them and took his leave, leaving George and his mother alone.

"Sapnap said you wanted to speak to me."

"I did, I have something for us to do this afternoon." She put on her clothes again and picked up a watering can.

"What is it that we are doing?"

"I have arranged for us to get our paintings done."

"Our paintings?"

"Yes, dear. The last time we had paintings done, you were about ten years old. It is about time we get new ones."

"Just me or…"

"You will get yours done today. Your father will go at the end of the week and mine was already done yesterday."

"What about a family one?" He plucked a dead leaf from a plant.

His mother slapped his hand away. "Be careful. And I'm trying to find a date when both you and your father are free. It's rather hard, you are both always so busy."

George noded. It didn't surprise him that it was hard to find a day when both of them are free. After all, if he was always busy his father was even worse.

" I will make it work," she promised with a smile. "What do you think of the flowers, honey?"

"It looks like they are blooming very well. Have you been working on them?"

"I have. Mr. Carter has been giving me some tips on how to take care of them properly. I think it is paying off."

The queen had always loved her flowers and plants. For as long as George could remember, there were always plants decorating the castle and filling it with their sweet scents. His mother could be found outside in the garden more often than not and, when it rained, she would spend her time at the greenhouse. When he was little, she would sit him on her lap and spend hours describing the colours of the different flowers to him and telling him the meanings behind them.

"The greenhouse looks lovely, mother," he smiled at her and bent down to smell one of the flowers in front of him.

"Those are daffodils. They symbolize new beginnings." She turned to him and there was a playful twinkle in her eyes. "They also mean love, desire and affection returned." 

"Is there something you're trying to tell me, mother?" He raised an eyebrow.

"You could invite Adelaide over for tea at some point. You could have it here," she said casually, gesturing to the table and chairs at the centre.

"Mother…" George sighed, straightening his back.

"I know you don't like it when we try to force these things, dear, but we only want what is best for you. Think about it."

***

"Your majesty, there has been a slight delay," a young woman with a very nervous look told them. "The painter will be free shortly, I'm very sorry."

"Do not worry," George's mother waved her off. We can wait."

George, his mother and their two personal knights were waiting for the appointment with the person who would do George's painting. George was sitting on a pillow chair, his mother next to him while Sapnap and Martha, his mother's knight, were standing closer to the door.

They had been waiting for a few minutes already and the anxious girl at the front desk had gotten a call before approaching them.

"There was an unexpected problem in one of the studios, nothing to worry about, but the painter will have to move his things."

George's mother smiled at the girl and shook her head softly in an attempt to soothe her nerves.

"There is no problem at all, darling. We do not mind sitting here for a little bit. Unexpected situations happen all the time and we can't control them. Do not fret."

The girl nodded, her hands clasped together in front of her and her eyes averting around the lobby. George found it kind of funny how nervous she was because of a small delay that was making them wait no more than ten minutes. Then again, they were part of the royal family, so he could understand the added nerves.

“Where did you find this painter?” George asked, sure that his mother wouldn’t pick anyone who wasn’t the best at what they did. 

“He was selling some of his paintings at the fair a few weeks ago. They were magnificent, I bought three and asked for his contact information.”

“You bought three?” George raised an eyebrow, he couldn’t remember seeing any new paintings around the castle.

“I did, one of them is in the library and the other two are in my study.”

George was about to answer her when they were interrupted by a tall, blond man appearing at the other end of the lobby. He wore black jeans and a grey hoodie with colourful paint stains here and there and he was smiling at them. George’s mother got up and he followed her lead, understanding that this was probably the painter she had been talking about.

“Your majesties,” he greeted them with a formal bow. “I apologize for the delay.”

The smile wouldn’t leave his face and George couldn’t look away. There was something hypnotizing about the way he walked confidently to them, in the way he talked and smiled at them as if they weren’t royalty. His confidence seemed to radiate off of him in waves and touch everyone in the room, almost like his smile.

Because George’s eyes always went back to that smile, to the way the man’s lips were curved up and his teeth were showing, to the way he seemed happy and carefree. George wanted to know what made him happy and, for some inexplicable reason, wanted to make sure this stranger always felt happy enough to have that contagious smile on his face.

“Do not even worry,” George’s mother waved him off. 

George could hear words being exchanged around him, but his mind couldn’t focus on them. He was still staring at the man in front of him. The air seemed to be heavier than it had been before, George’s heart was beating a little faster and he couldn’t explain his sudden inability to breathe properly. 

He couldn't explain why he was feeling like this after seeing this man for the first time.

“If you’d follow me.” The painter gestured to the door he had just come from.

George walked behind his mother, averting his eyes so that he wouldn't be caught staring at the man. Sapnap and Martha closed in behind them and the painter waited for them to go through the door before following the same path. 

“I’m afraid there isn’t enough space for all of us inside, the room isn’t too big.”

His voice was velvety and George wondered what it would sound like closer to him. What it would sound like whispered in his ear. He shook his head to get rid of the thoughts he should definitely not be having.

“Sapnap and Martha can stay right outside the door,” the queen nodded, her eyes held the weight of an order when they settled on the two knights.

The painter nodded and pointed at an open door towards the end of the narrow corridor, shuffling inside with George and the Queen right behind him. 

He had been right, the room wasn’t too big. There was a big window on the wall opposite the door, it let in the sunshine and bathed the room in a warm, yellow glow. The other walls were white but they could barely be seen below all the papers with drawings stuck to them. There was a desk near the window with paints, papers and brushes scattered around, there were also some around the floor and there was a canvas turned to the wall in one of the corners. The smell of paint and paper flooding the room.

“Excuse the mess, I don’t usually use this room for clients.”

“Are all these drawings yours?” The Queen asked.

The painter looked up from where he had been looking through a few papers at the desk and smiled before looking around the room.

“They are. I’ve been hanging the ones I’m the proudest of for a while now.”

He straightened up and moved an easel to the centre of the room adjusting it and placing an empty white canvas on it. Once he was satisfied with the way everything was arranged, he turned sharply to look at George and offered him a smile.

George blinked. If the painter's smile had made him breathless in the lobby when it was directed at a whole room, then George couldn't even describe what having it right in front of him, directed at him, made him feel.

“I haven’t even introduced myself. I’m Dream, I’ll be painting you today.”

George inclined his head in acknowledgement, not sure how to introduce himself when Dream already knew who he was. Not even sure if he remembered how to talk. 

“I am George, as you probably already know,” he said anyway, unsure of how ridiculous he sounded.

Dream chuckled, it was soft and vibrant in the sunny room and his eyes looked brighter in the light. From this close, George could see a small streak of blue paint on his temple where the brush behind his ear had touched and, for a split second, he felt the stupid, sudden urge to lick his finger and lean up to wipe it away.

“I do know that,” Dream smiled at him again. “Would you sit on that armchair, Your Majesty?”

George averted his eyes from Dream’s and looked at the armchair that was in front of the easel, at least he now had an excuse to avert his eyes and try to calm down the swirl of sudden emotions inside him. 

The chair was a deep royal blue colour, simple yet elegant. George walked to it and carefully sat, his back straight and his chin raised as he had been taught since he was little. It was soft to the touch and comfortable to sit on, it smelled like an antique shop and George wondered if that was where Dream had gotten it.

From his place, he could barely see Dream, hidden behind the canvas with only his forehead and hair showing above it. George raised an eyebrow as Dream moved his head to the side and one of his eyes poked out from the left side.

“You can get more comfortable.”

But George wasn't sure how to pose and be comfortable at the same time. He didn't know what to do with his legs and his arms and his hands, he didn't know where to look that would look good in a painting. He looked at his mother with questioning eyes and watched as she shakes her head fondly at him.

“George, dear,” the Queen moved gracefully to the armchair. 

She placed her hands on his shoulders and directed him to lean against the junction between the back and arm rests. Then, she placed his arms so that he was keeping a wide stance and took a step back to examine her work.

“What do you think, Dream?”

“I can work with that,” he nodded. “Graceful yet comfortable. I think it will make a great painting.”

The Queen patted George’s cheek and stepped back, turning to look at the drawings on the wall as Dream placed the paints that he would need closer to himself. 

“Prince George, if you don’t mind, could you turn your head to your left?”

“Like this?” He turned to the side so that he was staring at the wall to his left.

“Yes, thank you. I’m thinking a side profile could work well with the pose.”

George heard his mother hum in agreement and braced himself for the time he would have to spend in the same exact position as to not disturb Dream and throw off his work.

Soft music started flowing in the room. George could make out piano keys and the sound of bows on the strings of violins. There was a faint cello in the background, holding every note together and a guitar at the forefront enveloping all the sounds.

Dream was humming behind the canvas. Sometimes, paintbrushes could be heard knocking on paint cans and George tried not to think about the way Dream would shuffle around and look at him from time to time. He didn’t know how to feel about the intensity of Dream’s careful, artist eyes on him. There was something thrilling about it, something George couldn’t quite place and preferred not to even think about. 

In an attempt to get his mind off of sharp eyes and paintbrushes sliding over the canvas, he stared at the drawings that were in his line of vision, trying to make out the shapes.

They were beautiful, before even knowing what they were, George could see that they were beautiful. They seemed to come alive in the paper and George wanted to look at every single one of the drawings on the walls. 

There was a flying dove in one of them, wings spread open in flight, the black outline of the animal a stark contrast with everything else in the paper. Black on white, elegant and bold. A fireplace adorned the paper next to it, fire in serpentine shapes and colours George couldn’t see. The more he stared at it, the more it seemed to burn the paper and warm George's eyes.

“I am going to get some water,” the Queen’s voice cut through the room.

“There is a dispenser in the lobby,” Dream answered her. 

“Thank you.”

George tried to stay still as the door creaked open and closed behind his mother, a gust of colder air coming in from the corridor and making him shiver after staring at the drawn fireplace for so long. 

The sound of violins was the only one left in the room as Dream kept painting and George kept staring at the drawings on the wall. Being alone with Dream made him nervous. He didn’t know if he should say something or if he should stay quiet and let Dream focus on his painting. In the end, Dream made the decision for him.

“You can relax and rest now. I have the pose down, so you don’t have to be in it any longer.”

George didn’t have to be told twice. He relaxed against the armchair and turned his head to look at Dream, rubbing his neck to get rid of the uncomfortable feeling he had in it from staring to the side for too long. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but it was definitely more than his body was ready to spend in the same position.

“Are you sure you don’t need me to be in position?” 

“Absolutely,” Dream angled his head so he was peeking at him from the side of the canvas. “I have the base done, now I just need to add some details and colours.”

“Oh, that’s good. I thought I was going to stay in the same position the whole afternoon.”

Dream chuckled and went back to his painting, the music seemed to fade into the background as George’s ears tune into the sound of Dream’s laugh and deemed it more important than any other noise in the room. 

“The only thing I need to get done while you stay in position is a sort of detailed sketch of everything. I add all the details and colours after and I like to take some liberties as an artist.” He got on his tiptoes to look at George from over the canvas and winked.

George blinked, happy that Dream was back on the soles of his feet and couldn’t see the way his face had suddenly flared up in a hot blush. Dream had winked at him.

“How-” he coughed and got a hold of himself. He had been raised in the castle, he knew how to stay afloat in almost every situation. He could deal with a beautiful boy winking at him. “How do you remember everything that you have to add afterwards?”

“I have a great photographic memory.” The sound of a paintbrush being dropped into a can of paint sounded through the room, loud against the softness of the piano still playing. “Plus, Your Highness.” Dream stepped to the side of the easel and looked at George. “Who could forget anything about you and your pretty face?”

George opened and closed his mouth, incapable of uttering any words. There was no way to hide his blush this time, no way to mask it or cover it. His red face was on full display for Dream to see and turns out George actually can’t deal with pretty boys flirting with him. Was this what it was? Was Dream flirting with him?

Dream seemed to falter under George’s silence, his back straightened and he brought one hand up to mess with his hear in a way that George could only describe as nervous.

“I’m sorry. I overstepped, won’t happen again, Your Highness.”

George stared at him. For a few minutes, he had forgotten he was royalty and Dream wasn’t. He really shouldn’t be talking to George like this and George should put an end to it. But it felt good. It felt good to have someone be playful with him to the point of him forgetting the crown that was balanced on his head. Truth was, he didn’t want Dream to stop and he definitely wanted it to happen again, even if he couldn’t explain why quite yet.

“No.” George shook his head. “Don’t worry. You didn’t overstep.” He smiled and considered his next words for a few seconds. “I liked it.”

Dream looked startled and, for once, George wasn't the one left speechless. George was the crown prince, he had power that people couldn't even imagine, but he had never felt more powerful than in this moment, after making Dream's words disappear.

The door opened before any of them could say anything else and the Queen said gracefully into the room, a plastic cup in her hand.

"Are you already done with the sketch?" She asked Dream when she noticed how her son was sitting in the armchair.

"Yes, Your Majesty," Dream answered, taking his eyes off of George. "I only have to add some details and then you can go."

"Aren't you finishing it today?" George asked, he really wished his mother had given him a little more information.

"It's a big piece," Dream explained. "I need you here for some of the details but I will only add colour afterwards and you don't need to be here for it. It would be very boring."

Personally, George didn't think that he could ever be bored watching Dream work, but no one in the room needed to know that. Not with the way Dream moved confidently around the room as if he always knew what he was doing, what he needed and never hesitated to get it. George only wished he could have seen more of him painting without the canvas between them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this wasn't edited at all because i got lazy so i hope there isn't anything too crazy that escaped me. anyway, hope you enjoyed this chapter!! i don't know when i will have the next chapter ready because January is a very stressful month full of exams and assignments so fingers crossed it won't be too long.
> 
> let me know what you thought of this chapter and where you think the story is going!
> 
> also, my twt is @bikarls if you want to follow me there :)

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know when I will update again, I'm always very busy with university work and I only write in my free time. Also, this is probably not going to be very long, about 5-7 chapters maybe :)


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